Good cop Mad cop
by Adorelo
Summary: Sometimes a friend is all you need. Sometimes you need something more. Friendship/Romance
1. Chapter one

_**AN: **__Allrighty then. I started this way back but then completely lost the urge to finish it. BUT I have reworked the earlier chapters because they were crap and given them new viewpoints and more detail, and I now have a clear outline of where this is going. _

I stand with my back to the wall, leaning against it gently. I glance up to Valera who is working on her samples. I am sure she is deliberately looking anywhere but at me. I sigh, ever since it has been discovered I'd been working for the Feds, nobody would talk to me. I can't blame them, I had betrayed their trust. But in my defense, I only supplied the Feds with positive information, in some respects I had been a support to the lab. But people had listened to the gossip, that I'd slept with Eric for dirt on the lab and they didn't care about the facts.

The FBI were looking into the lab for mishandling evidence, but my reports had only informed then of the lab's triumphs, my research had nothing to do with the full blown investigation. That was local tip. I sigh again, it's getting to the point where I don't care what had happened, I just wish people would accept me again. Calleigh is the only one really talking to me, and even then, our conversations remain strictly professional. Still, it's nice to have a friend. This place can get worse that high school.

"Here," Valera states coldly, knocking me out of my thoughts. She hands me the report in a manila envelope, turns, and returns to work.

"Thanks Valera." I say with a smile that goes unnoticed, or unacknowledged. I take the file and walk out of the DNA lab, passing by the front desk. "Hey," I smile at the woman at reception, I figure she can't know too much because she actually smiles back.

"Hey, Natalia, will you do me a favor? This came for Calleigh, but I can't find her. Will you give it to her, please?" she asks, smiling brightly. Yep, doesn't know.

"Sure, don't worry about it." I take the file, and set off towards ballistics.

I find her on the main corridor, lost in thought. I switch arms, moving my heavy binder to my right side and holding the envelope out with my left. "Calleigh, this came for you," I hand her the letter, "Reception was holding it, I said I'd drop it off."

"You didn't have to do that," she smiles, evidently touched at my gesture.

"It's all right; I needed to speak to you about the Heartfield case anyway." I reach round and shake a file in front of me. "I know you were into the dad for this, but DNA's out, he's innocent of everything 'cept a DUI four years ago."

"Dammit," Calleigh says, sounding disappointed. I know she is sure Mark Heartfield killed his daughter, all evidence except forensics point to him. "Did CODIS get any hits?"

"Better," I smile, "DNA was male, and had several markers in common with the girl."

"Bother?" Calleigh questions, I see her widen her eyes. Kids killing kids is unsettling, but, chillingly, not uncommon. I shrug at her question, considering the possibility. "But then, kids get into it all the time, nothing to prove it was from the attack."

"True," I agree, not quite sure how to help, "Look, let me know if you find more evidence, bring it in and I'll put a rush on it," I offer, earning a smile in response.

"Thanks,"

I turn, intent on returning to my lab and thinking up more ways to get Valera to talk to me when Calleigh's startled voice calls me back.

"Natalia?" He voice is high; fear is evident across her features. It's not an emotion I am used to seeing on the blondes face and it unsettled me greatly.

"What is it?" I ask, moving closer, concern grating on my voice box.

She clutches the letter close to her, griping with white knuckles, "Who gave this in?"

"I-I don't know, Cal. Reception just--" I am cut off by Calleigh's departure, "Where are you going?"

I follow quickly, bloody pumping between my ears. I arrive to see Calleigh chattering nervously as she tries to pry information out of the woman behind the desk.

"--need you to think, Claudia. What did he look like?" She was pressing hard, taking deep breaths to control herself.

"Oh, I don't - I don't know. He was-- he was tall, dark hair. Oh! A red cross on his right hand near his knuckle," She looked excited for a moment, but caught Calleigh's expression and went back to remembering, "Erm, I'm not sure Calleigh. So many people come though -"

"It's okay," Calleigh responds softly before retracting her hands from the surface of the desk and returning to the direction of her lab.

I can't let this go.

"Calleigh. Calleigh! Wait." I call, grabbing the blonds arm and spinning her round. I worry when I see fear in her eyes. "What's going on?"

She glances at me momentarily, eyes flickering between mine. When she speaks, her words are so quiet; I have to strain to hear. "You can't be involved in this."

"I think I already am."

She shakes her head silently, urging me to back down. I won't. She considers me a moment longer, before closing her eyes and handing me the letter, followed by a glove. I pull it on; wincing at the latex rubs my sensitive skin. Pulling at the open end of the letter, I extract the contents. What I see, nearly floors me.

Blood. Everywhere. Thick red puddles pooled on the floor, swipes across the walls, patterns made out of the cruellest of inks. What chills me most is the writing across the top of the picture, in thick black marker: 'You're dead bitch'.

"My God, Calleigh." I whisper, shock trumping my fear, "Who is this guy?"

"Terry Western, I put him away for murdering 10 women in half as many months. He- He went on the run for 7 years killing 11 more that- that we know of as he travelled the country. He'd torture them, rape and then strangle them. After, he'd cut their bodies open and play in their blood. When I arrested him he told me he wanted to play with mine." Calleigh shudders at the memory, her speech curiously quick paced, as though she doesn't want to commit to the memory.

"How long did he get? He wasn't executed?" That shocks me; Florida had the death penalty for reasons like this.

"He pleaded insanity, incarcerated in a psych ward for the criminally insane. Took us seven years to find him. He was good, a former CSI in fact."

"Really? What happened?"

"He lost his wife in a shoot out whilst he was investigating a gang for drug trafficking. He had already been suffering because of his inability to have a child and when his wife died, he just lost it. Started screaming at her casket at the funeral, said it was her fault. Psych report said a breakdown." Calleigh informs me.

"So this guys still dangerous?" I ask, sounding foolish, but I need to know.

"Oh, yeah," is Calleigh's reply.


	2. Chapter two

_**AN: Again content has been changed (Updated Nov/26/2007)**_

I have no idea what to do. Calleigh has sworn me to secrecy. I can't break her trust, but I have to get this thing out in the open, emotional blackmail or no emotional blackmail. It has to be done.

I return to DNA, running the necessary tests on the letter. We know whom it is from, but we have to rule out the chance of a copycat, and the possibility of a victim. After setting the machines and leaving Valera an urgent note asking her to page me when the results are in, I go to return to Calleigh.

I pause down the corridor, noting Eric's entrance. I try not to listen in, but they are taking too loud. Loud enough.

"Thanks Eric," Calleigh replies to something Eric has said. Curiosity becomes me and I sneak a peek around the doorframe. Eric's hand is resting on her shoulder, gently rubbing small circles across them. There eyes are locked in a moment I hate to interrupt.

"Ahem…" I clear my throat, catching them both off guard. Eric looks away, a blush creeping over his face. Calleigh stands quickly moving away from his touch. Clearly I've unsettled them. "Sorry to interrupt, but can I talk to you, Calleigh, about… you know…"

It is a good job I'm over Eric, or that could have hurt big time. But, as I am, it was such a cute moment.

"Sure," she replies, turning to Eric. He must have seen something in her eyes because he nods, smiling softly before leaving the room. It never ceases to amaze me how they do that.

"I'm just waiting for Valera to page me with the DNA." I take a cautionary glance over Calleigh, "You holding up okay?"

"I'm ok, I think. I'll feel a lot better when we find out where he is."

"One thing I don't get Calleigh, how has nobody noticed he's gone? I mean, high profile murderer goes missing and nobody realizes?" I frown, moving to lean against the desk.

"Yeah I know. I did some digging and found out his name was never entered into the prison database. So the prison officers knew he was there but no records backed it up. When he went missing, the officers just figured he had been moved or paroled and as there were no records, nobody missed him." Evidently noting my shocked expression, she continued, "I told you he was smart."

"But why you? Of all the people?" I ask, sincerely confused as to his motives.

"Here's where it gets difficult. When he was a CSI I was only just starting at the lab, I was new… impressionable. Anyway, I misread the evidence in the case I was helping on and the officer in charge let the gang members go, five hours later they killed his wife. He blamed me for her death." Her voice breaks, her guilt is clear. I want to make her feel better, but I'm not sure anything I can say will help.

"Calleigh, I had no idea. I'm sorry. What are you going to do? I mean you have to tell Horatio."

"No. No, he's got enough on his plate." She cuts me off before I can speak anymore, continuing with her argument when I raise my eyebrow. "And I know what your going to say, 'he'll be happy to help'. But I really need to deal with this alone."

"What am I going to do with you Calleigh…? I mean…"

My pager goes off on my back pocket, startling me somewhat. Wow, that rush worked faster that I'd anticipated. I was expecting several hours, not minuets.

"…DNA's in Cal, I'm gonna go see Valera okay? I'll come find you in a minuet"

"OK," Calleigh replies and returns to her desk.


	3. Chapter three

_A/N: This fic got forgotten, and for that, I am truly sorry. You may wish to re-read the last two chapters because I have changed the viewpoint and some detail. You'll be happy to know, I have this finished now so there will be only typing up delays. _

_--Jodie._

Results are in, it is confirmed: Terry Western sent the letter and is evidently not bothered about us knowing that, as his fingerprints and DNA are all over it. Calleigh's eye light up with determination, I know her well enough to understand she'll fight this battle alone if I let her. But I have to play dirty to get her to ask for help. I can't let her do this alone.

"Calleigh, I really think you should tell Horatio," I begin, bracing myself as the torrent of arguments against that idea comes my way. I hold up a hand, effectively stopping her chatter. "Calleigh think about it. How would you feel if this guy killed again, or hurt someone? I don't think you'd like to have the responsibility of someone else's death on your hands just because you're too proud to ask for help."

"I am not too proud," Calleigh argues, "I just don't want to bother Horatio with pointless facts at this point. I can handle it."

"You're gonna get sloppy, and your gonna make mistakes. That's what this guy is counting on. You can't put yourself or others in danger like that, I can't let you Calleigh."

She considers me for a moment, trying to gauge my sincerity. I raise my eyebrows, showing her I wasn't backing down. She sighs loudly, looking to the side before back at me. "Fine," she mumbles.

----

Together we go to Horatio. I know Calleigh quite well; I sense that she's more scared than she'll admit. He stands as we enter, closing the door behind us. His head is lowered, but his blue eyes flit between us as he silently questions.

"Calleigh has something she needs to run by you," I begin, elbowing her softly, feeling like a young child in front of the Principle, not sure who should talk first.

"Go ahead ma'am," he presses, welcoming us to sit.

Calleigh says nothing, hands him a case file I didn't notice her bring, and takes a seat in front of the desk. I join her. Horatio's face remains emotionless, he stares only at the paper and I have to remind myself her knows we are here.

"He's back," Calleigh says suddenly, reaching over to place the picture she received on top of the file he is reading. He picks it up, studying it closely through the transparent protective case.

"Okay," he speaks slowly. "Leave this with me, I'll get in touch with some people and arrange for this to be dealt with within our team." He glances up at her, a concerned expression gracing his features, "I don't want you to leave the lab until this is over."

"Horatio, I'm fine," she presses, dismissing his concern with a shake of her head.

"No field work." His tone leaves no room for negotiation, "And you stay with Wolfe or Delko until I say otherwise."

"I don't need -"

"That wasn't a decision, it was an order."

She stares hard at his eyes; I can feel the tension coming off her in waves. She allows her shoulders to droop as she gives up her fight with a muttered, "Fine.".

-----

"Eric," Calleigh calls as she steps a little further away from me. "Can I ask a huge favour?"

"Sure, anything. What's up?" he replies, arm reaching out to pull her gently to the side of the corridor, out of the way as several technicians speeded past them.

"Can I tell you tonight?"

"Of course. Just come over whenever, you've still got your key," he smiles, squeezing her arm gently before leaving us alone.

"I'm going to get back to work," I tell her once Eric has left. "You'll be okay for a while?"

"Yeah, thanks," she says, a little indignantly, but she smiles, indicating she understands my intentions. I want to give her time to process this, to think about the implications and dangerous.

As I watch her leave, my mind reminds me of the horrors the photograph had shown. I am so engrossed with my thoughts; I don't hear Horatio come up behind me until he begins to speak.

"Ms. Boa Vista. I could use your help."

"Yeah, sure." I reply, turning sharply to see him.

"I need you to go and work with Cooper. AV can work out where the apartment is from the picture. I have Eric on stand by for when we find a location." His voice is riddled with authority; I can see the determination bubbling beneath the surface.

A determination I share.

----------

Cooper is sat, resting his head on one arm, concentrating greatly as he tries to zoom in and focus on the window in the picture. His hair is ruffled from running his fingers through it, a clear sign of his frustration.

"Okay, look at this shape," he says, drawing a dotted square around it. A building of some sort can be seen through the drawn blind. I can't tell what it is at all.

"What the hell is it?"

"Hold on," Copper reprimands, placing red dots at each key point of the building, twelve in total. "Okay, now calculating distance and gradient angels."

The computer screen flickers as it calculates, alternating between different buildings and shapes until a green 'match' message comes up on the screen.

"Got it, it's the Freedom Tower, downtown Miami," he smiles proudly.

"Yeah, but how do we find out where in comparison?"

"Time and date stamp in the corner," he states. "I can apply sun position figures and calculate the distance from the shadows. That'll narrow it down to the neighbourhood. Then you'll have to do a door to door."

Once again, we waited for the machine to spit out its information. A beep causes Cooper to pick up the phone, dial and wait.

"Delko? Yeah man, it's Coop. Look you need to get to a neighbourhood just off Port Boulevard Bridge. Yeah, around -" He pauses, "Really? Okay, good luck." He hangs up, placing his phone back on the hook, not filling me in at all.

"What?"

"Neighbour reported a bad smell coming from a house. Fit's the location, could be our crime scene," he tells me, reluctantly. Yet another one who will not trust me anymore. I feel like I have to prove myself all over again.

"Great, I'll let Calleigh know," I say, standing from my uncomfortable seat.

"I'd wait," Cooper says, turning to face me.

"Why? She wants to be kept in the loop."

"Yeah, but you know Calleigh. Are you going to tell her she can't go somewhere?" he questions, looking deadly serious. "You've seen that woman's gun collection…"

"True," I smile, settling myself back in, ready to see what other delights we could uncover from the photograph.

_Please review. _


	4. Chapter four

_A/N: Thanks to all my reviewers, especially the anonymous ones I couldn't thank personally. I_

I go straight home after work. I don't think I can face going out. The photograph analysis had uncovered nothing new, save for a few personal items belonging to the victim.

It's Calleigh my attention is drawn to as I sit, legs curled under me, on the couch. I wonder how she's getting on at Eric's. I told her she could call me at anytime, but I know she's in safe hands with Eric.

It's strange seeing the developments between Eric and Calleigh. I won't say I wasn't upset by it, but it wasn't a surprise either. Even when Eric and I were together, I had noticed their connection. He'd be working hard or chatting with a friend, then suddenly go and see Calleigh because he felt something 'wasn't quite right'. Their ability to have a conversation without words is strange to most, but it's something I have come to consider normal.

I knew Eric and I wouldn't last. It was a physical thing, and my pregnancy scare had been a wake up call, telling us we were moving too fast. Neither of us wanted to commit, I realise now one of Eric's reasons was his feeling for Calleigh.

I know him well enough to see a change in him around her. His voice becomes softer, his body more relaxed. It's as though she releases some sort of balm around him, soothing and comforting.

I wonder what she's told him. Despite her irritation that I forced her to tell Horatio, I know she will confide in Eric. Again, he's the one she goes to with her problems, he's the one she talks to when she's upset or annoyed. He's the one. Always.

Eric's reaction will be one of fear and worry, how he can help being the primary concern. Later, disgruntlement will follow annoyance that she didn't find him as soon as she found out. But the worry for her safety will remain paramount.

I shower and go to bed, feeling unusually tired for such an early hour. I've always been one to go to bed late and get up early; emotional turmoil seems to set me back, I can barely keep my eyes open. As I drift off, my mind manipulates the images of today, recreating the story of the unidentified victim until Calleigh's lifeless face stares back at me. I shiver unconsciously.

----

After terrible nightmares fill my sleep, I eventually give up and go into work early. I find Delko's report containing scene pictures and analysis so far. I settle down at a desk and begin to go through the evidence.

The photos are more than disturbing. Finally able to see the full scene, without any black writing, I notice more than before. The victim is face down, limbs twisted in a parody of ecstasy on the blood soaked mattress. In my job, I have seem many horrible things but this makes me feel sick. It isn't just horrific, it's perverted.

"Couldn't sleep?" Horatio's voice knocks me from my thoughts before I hear him approach.

"Yeah," I reply. "This is sick." I hold up the photograph to indicate my point.

"What are you doing with that?" he asks.

"Just needed to see if there was anything more I could do."

"You're not a CSI, Ms. Boa Vista," His tone is soft, though reprimanding.

"I just -"

"It's okay, I understand." He lowered his head, watching my silently as I close the file. He is hurting as I am; we both want to do something to make this all okay.

"Do we have a name yet?"

"No. The apartment was rented to a Peter Broadson. We're still waiting for patrol to bring him in and ID her."

"Okay." My voice is small; this case is affecting me as no other has before.

"There's some DNA for you to run, if you want to start early."

I merely nod, not trusting my voice. I slide down off the seat and pick up the evidence bags, signing the forms before taking them to the lab. I read some of the labels, one unidentified sample from under the victims fingernails; another, a saliva sample from the victims shirt. I decide to start with the victims DNA, entering it into the temporary database so I can ignore matches and focus on the unknowns.

I pull on my gloves, focusing all my energy on staying professional. Within moments, I have a name.

"Jessica Sager," I murmur to myself, needing to give the poor woman a name, her identity back. I enter her details into the database before returning to the other samples, my determination renewed.

As I work, I imagine the events. I can see his hands closing around her neck. I can see her face distorting in pain as he enters her, forcing past her defences and stealing her life. I imagine her clawing at his arms as his vice-like fingers squeeze tight around her pulse. I hear her final breath, taken staring into the eyes of pure evil.

The sterile beep tells me a match has been found.

Terrance Joseph Western's DNA was under Jessica's fingernails.

_Please review. xx_


	5. Chapter five

_AN: Sorry for the delay, I lost my note pad hits self. But here it is. I'll be back soon, enjoy. _

* * *

"Heard Eric stayed with you last night," Valera says to Calleigh, who bushes it off with a professionalism I rarely see in others. But Valera's having none of it. She steps towards her, smiling sweetly. "Oh, come on, Calleigh," she says. "Did you kiss him?" I notice Valera glance my way and I let my eyes fall. She's watching to see if I'm listening; I know my paranoia is justified this time.

Calleigh merely smiles, waving a DNA packet in front of Valera's eyes. She sighs, frowning amicably as she snatches the evidence away. I miss that. All the times Valera and I would joke around in the lab, back before things changed. I wonder if I'll ever get that back.

Calleigh catches my eye, head jerking slightly towards the door, indicating she needs to talk to me. I don't bother to excuse myself, simply place my evidence next to the microscope, ensuring it won't be put away before the analysis is complete, and step out into the corridor behind Calleigh.

"So did you kiss him?" I half-joke, mimicking Valera. Truthfully, I really want to know! But I wouldn't let her know that. I get no response though, just a soft glance and two raised eyebrows.

"Got anything?" she asks, pulling me to the side.

"Victim's name is Jessica Sager, she was 34." I watch her flinch, the victims name making the situation all too real for both of us.

"Eric told me he was taking over the crime scene, Horatio spoke to the night shift, and they gave it us." She spoke quickly, defensively. "Was it her home?"

"Boyfriends, I think. Horatio's with him now." I pause, glancing to her, choosing my next words carefully. "Calleigh, we need to consider the possibility that… that he may already have picked out another victim." I left it to her to make the link. She didn't want me explicitly saying, 'you're probably next, Calleigh', I know that. But I need her to understand the risks.

"I'm gonna join Eric at the scene," she dismisses, my line of thought avoided as she glances to me momentarily before continuing. "Wanna come with us?"

"Oh! Erm, sure, Calleigh…. Thanks."

Fieldwork. Something I'd never really considered before today. I mean, I've thought about what I'll be able to do after I've got all I could out of my current job. But I've not thought of advancing in to field forensics. Maybe it is something I could consider exploring in the future.

It is only on our way to the elevator that I really realize the impact of the woman's death on Calleigh. She is vulnerable as it is, with her eyes downcast as she walks, but the voice behind us chills my very heart. As I call her name, a broken voice sounds out, anger and distress prevalent in every word.

"You're Calleigh Duquesne?" says the voice, getting louder as it walks towards us. "CSI Duquesne?"

"Can I help you?" she asks, brows furrowed in confusion.

"Answer me!" he shouts, eyes wide. She nods gently, unsure of his intentions. "You're the reason? You're the reason my Jessica's dead?"

"Sir, I - "

"Don't!" he cries, head falling into his hands. "Don't make excuses. She died because of your mistakes."

"Sir," I try to interrupt, feeling the need to defend her. He continues regardless, stepping close to her, pure despair radiating from him. It physically knocks Calleigh and she moves backwards.

"Her blood is on your hands, Miss Duquesne, remember that." He stares for a moment, maintaining eyes contact, before he takes a step back, tears on his face. With that, he leaves.

I glance to Calleigh, see her studying the floor like it's the most interesting thing she's ever seen. I move closer, my hand grasping her arm. "You okay?" I ask, gaining no response. "Calleigh, you're not…"

She turns suddenly, pressing the button for the elevator furiously. I follow, returning to stand by her side, both literally and metaphorically. "You're not responsible for her death; you know that, right?" She doesn't respond, simply stares straight ahead until the elevator comes. I try to talk to her about it, but she silently refuses; telling me, in so many ways, to let it go.

But I cannot let her suffer alone.

/---/

The scene is worse than the photo's. I think we both expected that, what I wasn't ready for, was the smell. Cold metal, decomposition, urine and sweat. The thick, stagnant smell of death. It's a smell that covers everything, sticks to your cloths, hair and skin. I've head the newer CSI's talk about it before, but I've never experienced it first hand. The sterilization equipment and the AC system masks the smell of the blood in the lab. I fight a heave.

"Got anything?" Calleigh asks, spotting Eric across the room.

"Hey. Yeah, nightshift filled me in. Body's with Alexx now, she started post this morning." He pauses, gauging her reaction. She gives none, which I think tells Eric more than her words could. "Erm, a lot of blood," he continues gesturing around, "mainly in this room, but there is some on the stairs."

"Where's PD?" she asks, and I realize now that there is only one officer on the scene.

"They're all caught up, there's a major accident on the causeway."

"What evidence did they find?" she continues. I notice she still hasn't made eye contact with Eric.

"Hair, fibers. I don't know how many will be the perp's though, considering…" He glances to her now, squinting a little, like I have seen him do over evidence countless times. "How you holding up?"

I guess she told him about Western, he seems really worried. "I'm okay," she says, smiling strongly. He merely frowns, clearly not happy with her answer. Calleigh's a good actress, but she can't fool Eric. "I'm gonna talk to the officer," she says, gesturing to me for a moment. "Coming?"

I follow, glancing back to Eric, watching him shake his head slightly.

The officer is helpful, informing us what the night shift has already managed to do. They've processed half the scene, leaving little for us to do. The evidence has been returned to out lab, and the results will be given to us. PD had put out an APB last night, they are still waiting for any information to come though. Calleigh scribbles all this down, and I struggle to keep up with the torrent of information he is throwing our way.

He pauses suddenly, a voice crackling over the radio, demanding his attention. A possible match to the description of Western that was released has been made. He glances to Calleigh, as though understanding this is important to her. "You guys gonna take this?" he asks us, and Calleigh nods, telling him to ensure backup follows quickly.

She calls Eric, informing him of the situation. "You sure you wanna take this? I can go alone if…"

But she ignores him, striding purposefully towards the Hummer. Eric glances to me, silently begging me for help. I don't know what's happened between them, but she's never been that dismissive with him before. I've seen her do it to others, even myself, but with Eric, she's always been nice about the fact she wants to be left alone. "What's going on?" I ask, trying to see what I can do to help.

"I don't know," he replies, scratching the back of his neck with his index finger. "I'm trying; she just keeps pushing me away."

"She's Calleigh." It's all I can offer as an explanation, "What happened?" My questions strikes a response, his eyes snap to mine. It was innocent enough, 'what happened' could mean anything in the world, but the fact he jumps to the conclusion he has tells me all I need to know. "Right," I say, pulling my eyes from his.

"Nat, I -"

"It's okay," I reassure, and really, it is. I still don't know exactly what happened, and I get the feeling he won't tell me, but I know something did and it doesn't hurt as much as I expected it to. I'd figured I'd be crushed, even a little, but all I feel is acceptance.

He smiles suddenly, looking at me reassuringly. "I think she'll be okay, we just have some things to sort out."

/---/

"Is PD on its way?" Eric asks Calleigh as we step into a compound surrounded by a large metal fence. The place looks abandoned, an old junk-yard of some kind. Loose metal is strewn about the floor, large sheets and mangled cars lie haphazardly over each other. In the middle, a wooden shed stands tall, proud almost; like a lone warrior in the middle of a death-ridden battlefield.

"Yeah, anonymous call came in about half an hour a go. They're going to follow us as soon as they can get away from the causeway."

A loud bang sounds from within, Calleigh signals me back, copying Eric and pulling her weapon. "Wait here," she orders, cocking her gun. Together they enter, disappearing out of site as they follow the noise. I can do nothing but wait, hoping back-up will arrive soon. Situations like this can be dangerous, I watch TV. They are not supposed to enter alone, but I know there is no way Calleigh is risking letting him go.

I'm returning to the Hummer when my breathing stops short. My body freezes momentarily as three shots resound from within.

My heart goes cold.

/---/


	6. Chapter six

_A/N: Sorry about the cliffhanger, I usually hate them, but sometimes they just happen. I wanted this chapter with the last one, but the flow seemed off so I split the two. Let me know what ya think._

* * *

"Jesus," I mutter as I round the corner. My eyes flick between bodies on the ground and my brain struggles to make links. Are they dead? Who's alive? My legs have frozen. Calleigh lies still; blood from a bullet to her chest is staining her front. The assailant, Western I presume, is slumped against a metal sheet, half of his face crumbled from a shot to the head; most likely imparted by Calleigh's weapon. And Eric? Eric looks dead, his face paling slowly as the blood drains from a hole in him abdomen.

Somehow, I make it to Calleigh's side. Relief floods my body as I watch her arms flail about, trying to get up. I check her pulse as I call for ambulances, finding it erratic but still there. My legs pull me to Eric; he's about a stride away, but he's not moving. Barely breathing.

"Eric?" I try, pressing my hands to his stomach, trying to stem the flow of blood. It fizzes around my hands. He doesn't respond. I rise quickly, checking Westerns body and kicking aside the gun. He's dead, but I know the protocol. "Calleigh, what happened?" She is on her knees now, blood dripping from her wound, staining her shirt and forming a small puddle on the floor below. "Calleigh?"

"He - He shot… Eric," she stutters out, her breathing erratic. Short shallow puffs as she tries desperately to fill her lungs. "He-"

"It's okay," I say, trying to encourage her to lie back down. She shouldn't even be able to move, yet here she is making steady progress to Eric's body.

"Is he de- " She stops herself, not wanting to say the word. "Is he alive?"

I nod, rising to move to her side, my hand resting on her shoulder as I encourage her to rest. She's having none of it. "Try not to talk, Calleigh. You need to lie down."

She pushes me away, pulling herself towards Eric, sheer determination written on her face. She slips on the gravel slick with blood, cutting her hands and arms as she keeps pulling, not giving up until she's next to him.

"Eric?" she croaks, hand touching his arm.

"Stay still Calleigh," I warn, mindful of the fact she's still bleeding heavily. But she's not moving anywhere now, she doesn't even glance to Western, simply keeps her gaze on Eric. A shaky hand moves to his wound, mimicking my intentions of earlier.

His eyes open softly and I almost fall to my knees in relief. Calleigh reaches out a hand to palm his cheek, whispering gentle words into his ear. She presses down hard on his wound, making him wince in response. Their blood mixes as she tries desperately to stem the flow of his.

In the distance I hear sirens approaching and I kneel down, trying to keep both of them alive long enough for the paramedics to help. I reach out to Eric, but Calleigh pushes me away, cradling his body to hers. She won't let me touch him. The lack of blood and oxygen is starting to drive her closer to shock and I know her behavior is irrational. Right now, I am their best hope. Regardless of what she wants, I have to help. I pull away her hand and she fights it. How she has so much energy I don't know, but she refuses to budge, so I put my fingers over hers and help her to press down.

I hear the ambulances arrive and I rise to direct them but they find us anyway, flooding the scene with medical paraphernalia and stretchers. Calleigh whispers Eric's name softly, trying to make him keep his eyes open. They flutter shut, opening again when she speaks. He's fighting.

"Come on, Eric," she grinds out. "Please stay with me. I can't lose you." His eyes close again, this time they don't open. She grabs his face with a ferocity I didn't know she was capable of. "Eric! Don't you dare give up on me!" she growls, not letting him go until the EMT pried him out of her grasp. We watch them move him away from the scene; only then does she let her own eyes close, sheer exhaustion overcoming her.

/---/

My eyes fill with tears as I watch Dr. Reader glance to her watch. The brief conversation from only moments ago still flits though my mind. After Horatio convinced her to give us the information, despite the fact we are not family members, we finally got some answers.

"_Miss Duquesne will be fine. The bullet looked like a ricochet; it didn't go deep, damaging just the surface of the lung. She lost a lot of blood though, but she'll pull through. We've managed to get her fluid levels back up again. She's a fighter." Doctor Reader had glanced away, almost as though deciding whether to impart any more information or not. _

"_And Eric?" I pressed, demanding she tell me. _

"_Mr. Delko body's been in shock since he arrived. I'm not sure if he can resist new stressors and the bullets still in his abdomen. Removal will be difficult. You should get his family here."_

"_But he'll be okay?" I asked, my heart sinking when I saw her glance to the floor. _

"_You should prepare your self for the worst."_

The worst? No, just pain so intense it presses down on my chest, refusing to let me breathe.

I'd called Horatio on the way to the hospital. He'd stayed calm, God knows how, demanding, in that professional way that leaves no room for negotiation, that both the doctor and I tell him everything we knew. He stands by me now, both of us watching as Eric's body is pumped full of blood and drugs. A desperate concoction to try and salvage a man from the destruction left by a small lump of metal.

"Ma'am?" He glances to me, fingers twiddling with his sunglasses for a moment, before he pins them to his shirt. "Stay with Eric, I'll call his parents. I'm going to go to Calleigh too, see how she is."

I nod, the compassion in his voice drawing out my tears. I don't fight them this time, watching him walk to my friend as I try to stand by the other.

I see Dr. Reader glance to her watch, shaking her head at the young nurse who tries to hand her the paddles. They are giving up. They're letting him go. My tears fall uncontrollably now and I let me eyes slip shut, unable to watch him die.

"Try again." A voice startles me, making my eyes open wide again as the trauma-room door slams against the wall. Alexx.

"You can't be in here," says Dr. Reader, gesturing for her to leave.

"I'm a Medical Doctor," Alexx says, eyes glinting with black determination. Her voice is steely as she grinds out, "try again, or I'll do it myself."

Their eyes meet, a sudden silence descends upon the room, punctuated by the odd beep of the machine. "It's been - "

"I don't care how long it's been."

Dr. Reader sighs reluctantly. "Paddles." She grabs them, casting Alexx an icy glare as she returns her attention to Eric's body. "Charging. Clear."

Eric's body convulses. I glance to the monitor. Nothing.

The doctor glances to Alexx, brows raised expectantly.

"Again," Alexx orders.

"Charging. Clear." I cringe as she places the panels on his skin, hating the way his body responds to the current.

I glance to the monitor.

Nothing.

"Again!"


	7. Chapter seven

_**AN: To kill or not to kill? I went back and forth, wrote both and this version actually worked better. Meh, I hope. Blame Jack's puppy. Oh, and thanks to Jacks herself, for being so helpful and smoothing out my bumpy prose**_

* * *

Calleigh looks peaceful in her hospital bed, surprisingly so. Blond hair frames her face, fluttering slightly against her breath. The only sign of her altercation coming from the drip in her arm and the IV tube in her hand.

Clorinda Delko sits at her side, holding her hand tightly. I've only met the woman on a few occasions, but I know she doesn't like me. I also know she loves Calleigh with all her heart. As I enter, Clorinda raises her brows in acknowledgment of my presence. She must take in my blood stained clothes, but she doesn't comment.

"How is she?" I ask, voice curiously small.

Clorinda blinks furiously, her aged face crinkling as she wards off tears. "They say she'll be okay," she says, raising a hand to stroke back matted blond hair. "It's just the waiting." She glances up, but doesn't meet my eyes. "Her father's on his way, I don't think her mother can make it out until tomorrow."

I nod. "And Eric?" I mummer my concern, almost fearful of her response.

Her eyes meet mine now and my heart almost breaks at the pain I see behind them. She's lost one child, I don't think she could handle losing another. But behind the pain lies steely determination, I can tell she's fighting for all of them. "They've stabilized him," she says, "but he's still in surgery. Could be hours before we hear anything. My poor baby," she whispers the last part to herself, eyes now focused on Calleigh.

It had been several hours since they took Eric into surgery, Alexx still hot on their heels. Clorinda had arrived moments after the hospital had called, leaving her husband to take care of the grandchildren.

"I'm so sorry," I say, not really sure how my words can be of comfort. I feel almost intrusive standing there in the room with them, but Clorinda motions for me to sit before I can contemplate leaving.

"It's not your fault," she says, shaking her head dismissively. "You saved their lives, both of them." She still won't look at me. I know her thanks come somewhat reservedly, as she still hasn't forgiven me for hurting Eric. I guess she doesn't know that we both hurt each other.

"He didn't respond to me," I tell her and I don't need to explain. Her smile as she squeezes Calleigh's hand tells me everything.

"She always could tell him what to do. She was the only one who could get away with it." Her voice is soft, tender, but I notice she's speaking in the past tense.

"Don't give up," I try, finally meeting her eyes across Calleigh's form.

"I can't convince -" Her sudden stop commands my attention. "Calleigh?" Clorinda's eyes are focused on the bed, riveted on Calleigh's face. "Calleigh?" she repeats, a large smile breaking as Calleigh's eyes stir open and close again at the harsh light. Clorinda's fingers reach up, gently grazing over Calleigh's cheeks. My hand grips her forearm tightly as I try to give her some of my energy.

She tries to speak, but her voice is too weak. Taking a deep breath, she tries again. "What are you doing here?" she finally gets out, voice groggy from the drugs. Her eyes fall on the counter and Clorinda jumps to attention, moving a cup of tepid water to Calleigh's lips, letting her sip through a straw.

Her thirst quenched she glances between us slowly. "Where's Eric?" she asks, voice hesitant.

Clorinda nibbles her lip, clearly debating whether telling Calleigh is a good idea. I almost cut in with an answer, knowing Calleigh would hate not knowing, but she starts to speak, stopping my input.

"If he's," she starts, pausing to take a breath, "if it's bad, I want to know. I want the truth."

"It's bad," Clorinda states, eyes wet, brimming with emotion. "It's bad, Mi Hija." Her repetition hits home a truth I don't think Calleigh has acknowledged before.

Calleigh moves, tugging her IV to allow her arm some more room. She attempts to sit up, but the pain from her chest forces her to retreat into the pillow again. "How bad?" she mumbles, voice strained from her exertion.

"They've only just managed to -" Clorinda's whispers fade away. Unable to finish her sentence, she turns to me, eyes begging me to finish for her.

"They've stabilized him, Calleigh, we're waiting on test results and word from his doctors. He's in surgery right now." I inform, trying to keep my voice as reassuring as possible. Truth is, I don't know if he'll make it out of the OR.

Calleigh's eyes shut momentarily, then reopen, flashing with such a fierce determination it scares me a little. She tries to move again, gritting her teeth against the pain. "I have to -" Her arms fail and she falls back into the pillow, a sound of frustration escaping her as she plants them down and tries again. "I need to -" She's almost sat up, back lightly leaning against the pillow as loud beeps fill the room, informing the nurses that she's disengaged her IV tube.

"Calleigh -" I start, trying to push her back down as a female nurse enters, reconnecting the plastic pieces. "You don't need to do anything." I raise my hands, effectively stopping her arguments. "Eric may be out of surgery soon, he'll need you here, strong for when he wakes. There's nothing else you can do for him right now."

Her eyes close in annoyance but she complies, leaning down again though remaining upright. I let it go; it's all about compromise with Calleigh. At least, it is if you want to win an argument with her. She tries pull her hand away as the nurse (who's name is Gloria, I notice) tries to administer pain relief.

"You'll be needin' it later, doll face, trust me. It'll get worse before it gets better," Gloria drawls, accent thicker than Calleigh's. Call it a Southern connection or something, but Calleigh willfully gives over her arm, letting the drugs be pushed into her IV. Gloria pats Calleigh's head gently, old, worn fingers weaving around to test her forehead for fever. "How're you feelin'?" she asks. "You look better. If that wound of yours is lookin' okay, you may be outta here by mornin'."

"I feel fine, actually, just a little pain," Calleigh replies, accent thickening slightly in the presence of Gloria.

"Nausea?"

"Not anymore."

"You were lucky," Gloria says, nodding her graying brown head. "That bullet caught just the top of the lung; the tissues already repairin' itself. It coulda been a whole lot worse, Missy."

"I know," Calleigh replies. "How long before it stops hurting to breathe," she quips.

"Should be fine in a couple of days, Sweetheart, just fine. We'll give you antibiotics, anti-inflammatory for the muscle damage and pain relief when you leave." She turns to Clorinda asking, "mother-in-law? Friend?"

"She works with my son, Eric Delko. He was brought in with her." There was no masking the shake in Clorinda's voice.

"Right," Gloria replies sadly, "I heard about the cops getting inta some trouble. I'm extremely sorry. I didn't know it was y'all who were involved." She places a gentle hand on Clorinda's shoulder, her genuine concern radiating across all of us. "I'll leave you to it; I'll be back to check on you later," she excuses herself, leaving the door ajar as she exits.

Mere moments later, it opens again, revealing Doctor Reader with Horatio following close behind. I can't read her expression. "Mrs. Delko?" the doctor asks, smiling tightly when she locks eyes with Clorinda, reaching out to shake her hand as she rises. I try to read Horatio's eyes but he keeps his gaze on Calleigh. "I'm Doctor Reader; I've been working on your son."

"Is he okay?" Clorinda's voice wavers again, her eyes brimming with tears as she grips Calleigh's hand tighter.

"Mrs. Delko; would you like to step into the family room? We can have more privacy there."

Clorinda shakes here head. "Here is fine. How is my son?"

The soft smile from the doctor sends a wave of hope shooting through my body. "The surgery was a success, so far. We're closing him up now. I'll go in to detail about the surgery when you've had time to digest the news. He'll be taken into ICU when they've finished, after that, the next 24 hours in post-op will be crucial. If we can prevent infection and keep his vitals strong, he should make a full recovery." She pauses to flick her eyes towards Calleigh. "But, like I said, the next day or so will be critical. It's a waiting game, but we'll monitor him closely."

Clorinda rises suddenly, wrapping her arms around the Doctor, whispering thanks in Spanish I'm sure the red-head doesn't understand. My eyes fall on Calleigh, her head is lowered, but I can see the glint of tears on her cheeks.

"I'm glad it could be a happy ending for you," the Doctor says and I have to restrain myself from pointing out that she was the one who wanted to give up on him in the first place.

"I wanna see him when he's out," Calleigh says suddenly, her head still bent down.

"He'll have to be kept relatively isolated, for now at least, to minimize infection. I'll let you go see him when he wakes. You need to rest."

Calleigh nods, too emotionally exhausted to do much else. I smile reassuringly at her, trying to remind her that, for now, Eric was okay.


End file.
